


Everybody Wants to Rule the World

by orphan_account



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Action, But I don't think most people actually take time to read all the tags, Gen, Government, I generally read the tags, I should think about these more but I can't, I wonder if anyone's even reading this, I'm too lazy, Or relationships, Rebellion, corrupt, idk - Freeform, leaders, or characters, rebel, yee Alfred
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-14
Updated: 2015-09-14
Packaged: 2018-04-20 18:35:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4798076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a long and vicious battle, new rulers, the 'leaders', as they call themselves, take over. It's not good, and many people wish they could do something about it. When one realizes he can, a rebellion is formed, and it's now their job to take back the world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

She heard the gunshot behind her, right before she saw the dent being made in a piece of scrap metal, mere inches from where she stood. Breathing heavily, she continued running, almost tripping as she went. 

Her skin and clothes were covered in blood, and she had been hit in the arm by a passing bullet, but she continued. She couldn’t let it end like this. They were so close, she just had to make it to safety, and all she needed was to get back to her home.

But fate had its own plans, and the woman began to tire, her breath coming in short gasps. She squeezed her eyes shut as she sprinted down the dark side street. Tears were threatening to spill, she couldn’t cry now. She had to get back to her family, her sons, her husband, and her peaceful life. She needed to escape, and forget that anything had happened, yet her dream fell short. 

It came suddenly, and she had no way to tell that it was coming. A gunshot, just like the others, but instead of from the people chasing her, from behind, the gunshot was from somewhere above, and in front. As it hit its mark and pierced her chest, the pain burst through, and her eyes widened.

The blood immediately started pouring out from the wound, making her too weak to even stand anymore as she stopped suddenly, collapsing onto the stone, dirt-covered road. They were able to catch up to her then, and one of them pressed his dirty boot onto her, making sure she wasn’t able to stand. She was vaguely aware of multiple guns being pointed at her.

“Ariel Jones,” one of them spoke, his voice hard and cold with hatred. “This is the end of the line. Be thankful that we’re going to spare the lives of you family, we could have them all killed for the treason you’ve committed against this world’s leaders.”

She coughed in response, feeling blood bubbling up into her throat. She knew that she would be dead in no time at all, and didn’t bother struggling under the pressure of the foot placed on top of her.

Instead of saying something back to them, as she once would, she closed her dark eyes, her tan skin paling slightly, and her once beautiful black hair now matted and uneven, messy against the ground. Her figure, which had been so graceful and perfectly thin, now seemed too skinny as she lay there, blood soaking up the fabric on the shirt she wore.

She ignored the next words spoken to her, thinking only of her son. Her perfect, special son, who had taken so much after his father, and not at all after her. She couldn’t care less though, the fact that those blue eyes and blonde hair she loved so much on the man who was with her for many years was passed on to her son made her happier than if he were to look like her.

She thought of that cowlick that would never stay down with the rest of his hair, that always annoyed the toddler, those large and innocent eyes, and that smile that always graced his face, and a ghost of a smile appeared on her lips.

She almost missed the next gunshots, and the pain that came with them, as her mind refused to leave her beautiful son. And even as the white came, filling up everything from her view, she was content, despite the fact that everything she had worked so hard towards for years was gone in that instant, because the last thing she would ever see, was that beautiful boy, being the perfectly happy child she knew he would always be.


	2. Chapter One: Maybe

14 years later. . .  
“Jones!” A stern voice barked. “Pay attention when in class!” 

The loud voice immediately made him come to attention, waking up from the little nap he may or may not have started in the horrible little class known as History. If it weren’t for the situation the world was in, he would’ve enjoyed history, but not all things come to those who want it.

“Now then,” the teacher continued, her cold eyes on the blond. “As I was asking earlier, how many years ago was the rebellion first formed?”

“20.”

“And in what year were the leaders able to get rid of the rebels?” The way the teacher said it almost made the teen flinch. Her voice was laced with ice, just like her eyes, and h knew that the teacher had every idea of who his mother way.

“Um, 2113.”

The teacher nodded briskly. “Good. Now, Jones, I suggest you don’t fall asleep in this class again, you’re lucky you’re even here.”

And that was where the flinch came. The teacher was implying two things, two things he knew very well. His family could just barely pay off what they needed to send them to school, and the government had every right to keep him from learning just because of his mother. 

He didn’t like thinking about his mother, at all. She was one of the co-leaders of the rebellion, along with some guys, one with long blond hair, the other curly dark brown, and people reminded him of that more than necessary.

His blue eyes flicked over to his friend, who was looking at him with a worried expression. Of course he was, he always was.

Raising his eyebrow at his worried friend, he turned his attention back to the teacher, hoping that the school day would just go quickly.  
. . .   
The minute the class ended and they were out in the hall, his friend spoke.

“Alfred,” he said, shaking his head. “You need to stop doing that in the classrooms! You could get in more trouble than usual!”

Alfred laughed. “Relax, Kiku,” he replied. “I’m going to be okay. It’s not like I’m the one who was in the rebellion.”

Kiku visibly stiffened. “Alfred, you were close enough, and please don’t mention that in a joking matter. Just be careful, something bad could come from how you act someday.”  
Alfred rolled his eyes. “I promise you, Kiku, I’m going to be fine. Now come on, history’s over, and that’s the last class in the day, let’s just leave this old place before it caves in on itself.”  
Despite the fact Alfred would usually joke about these things, he wasn’t, and his tone was serious. He had been expecting the building to cave in for about two years, and hated that nobody took him seriously about it. It was two floors high, and extremely old, and there was still a hole in the wood on the first floor from where someone stepped through, and the staff were too lazy to fix it. He always heard creaks above his head when students were walking throughout the halls on the second floor, and the people who originally built it were most likely idiots, because everything was wood. If he wanted to, Alfred could sneak by it one night and burn the thing to the ground, some of the outer wood was even charred from someone trying.

The building’s stability was probably the only thing that every single student, and there were only about 300 among the 4 levels of students going to the school, agreed on and hated. Some kids refused to step inside the thing because they were so scared it was going to collapse on top of them. 

The school building wasn’t the only bad thing about that place. The education was all biased based on what the leaders thought would be important, and a lot of history was changed to what they told the students. Alfred couldn’t even remember the last time he actually had a class that sounded normal.

Alfred’s father and mother both collected and kept books, ones that were considered illegal for anyone outside of the wall to ever own. Books about the past, made before the leaders came into power, novels with lifestyles different from theirs now, biographies, and more. It was astonishing what the powerful people were trying to hide from society about life in the past, and it made sense, being that, from what he’d read, life in the past was a heck of a lot better.

That was the reason Alfred hated the rich people. They not only were separated by a huge wall, and told that the richies could go to the other side whenever they wanted, but not anything else, but they also got actual education because the leaders weren’t worried they would try and start a rebellion. Plus, if you were on the poor side of the wall, you could never get to the other side unless you had some “special ability” that could help the leaders as they kept their hold on life with such a strong grip that nobody could escape.

Alfred knew some people who had “special abilities”. He had met them only once, a pair of Italian twins, but he still couldn’t figure out what was so special about them, and why they didn’t just live fully on the other side of the wall, like the stories said most did. Alfred wondered if it was part of what they did that kept them still living on the poor side, or if they just didn’t want to leave the place they were born in.

Personally, he didn’t care, and continued to not care as he quickly left the school building, Kiku right behind him.

The two friends naturally went their own ways, being as it was their normal routine. The two lived on opposite sides of the school, and Kiku had to help by working a, crappy nonetheless, job that helped support the rest of his family. And Alfred had seen his family, it was huge.

Alfred didn’t think about much as he walked home, only looking around at the run-down place he lived in. It wasn’t horrible on his standards, but from reading stories, he’d learned that life was a lot better for most people in the past, and definitely for those on the other side of the wall.

It held more than just the rich families, of course. All of the official buildings were located there, and it’s where the leaders lived, of course. 

Alfred’s home was situated close to the wall, so he could see it clearly. It was no more than a concrete slab that stretched on further than the eye could see, but there were many places scattered throughout the ground level area of the wall. They didn’t open too often, but when they did, it was always the same thing. Due to the fact that only the rich and powerful were allowed to go between sides of the wall, of course it was always the same.

There was only one time when that had been different.

Alfred finally reached his home, a small, one-story, stone place that seemed to be falling apart. His father was outside, patching up a hole in the outer wall that Alfred accidentally made in an experience he never wanted to repeat.

“Hi, dad!” he said, passing his father to go inside.

His father, keeping his concentration on the wall, gave Alfred a distracted wave, and he smiled and opened the door. Inside, talking, were his, adopted, but surprisingly looking like his twin brother, Matthew, and Gilbert, who had basically been living with them since he was 9 and Alfred was 7. He came from a very wealthy family, but when he was younger he didn’t know how to shut up, and still didn’t, and expressed his displeasure for the leaders a bit too loudly. He told Alfred that his parents contemplated turning him in to the leaders, which would most likely get him killed, but at the very least send him into a punishment system that Alfred had only heard about through tales, but his younger brother convinced them to just send him to the other side of the wall, and though it sounded like a harsh punishment, probably saved the albino’s life.

Though he did end up living with them, Gilbert ended up spending several months relying on the cover of the streets, and everything he could get his hands on. Because of that, he was severely malnourished, and definitely one of the skinniest people Alfred had ever met, and not in a good way.

Alfred was immediate friends with Gilbert, being as they both generally liked to rebel, and also were loud, and really liked “awesome” things. Gil was one of Alfred’s best friends, though he still got along nicely with Matthew. Personally, Alfred didn’t trust him very much around the quiet teen, but he tried not to make a big deal out of it. The key word was tried.

His eyes narrowed slightly when he saw Matthew talking with Gilbert, but he decided to ignore it, and headed into the room he shared with the two. Three teenagers and one room was not a good mix, though it wasn’t the worst because of Matthew and his apparent ability to actually stay clean. Alfred never understood him. 

The room was small, and they shared two beds. Matthew switched between sleeping in the same bed as Gilbert and Alfred when they were younger, but now he just stayed with Alfred, saying that it was weird to sleep in the same bed as someone you’re not related to. Alfred assumed that if he’d actually been given a choice in the situation, however, Mattie wouldn’t sleep in the same bed as him, which made him suspicious.

The mattresses were old and just a bit too small, but he didn’t mind. It was something, and when Gil had first moved in, despite having lived in a literal mansion until he was kicked out, acted like the little place was a slice of heaven, which it most certainly was not.

Alfred plopped down on top of the mattress, and almost immediately fell asleep, finally, truly, relaxing for the first time that day, and the first time in a while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually wrote the prologue like yesterday, and then wrote the first chapter in the time frame after, so on here I'm like updating within two minutes. XD  
> But yeah, introductions into the world are always good. It lets you know a bit more of what's going on.  
> That's all, bye!  
> ~Kota

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, so yeah.  
> More Hetalia stories.   
> And really short prologue, I know.  
> I think that's kind of the point.  
> Anyway, but yeah. I started this new project after hearing Everybody Wants to Rule the World by Lorde (the other version by Tears for Fears isn't as good in my opinion) for one of the first times ever, and I got this idea. I really like what I have planned, on ff.net one person is putting a lot of thought into what could be going on and it's really cool.  
> But yeah, this is probably going to take up more time, I'll try to get back into the swing of updating stories, but after a couple chapters, usually I slow down and update like once every 1-3 months. Yeah, it's as sad as it sounds.  
> But I blame writer's block.  
> Anyway, that's all! I don't want to be rambling!  
> ~Kota


End file.
